Field Of Stone
by illuminated-moon
Summary: Rich goes to Grace's grave for the last time before he leaves for Uni.


He decided to take the long way home that day, past the vintage shops and supermarket full of mothers dressed in oversized tracksuits, scanning the aisles for special offers whilst looking for their children, most of which were probably hiding in the snack food aisle, eyeing up a packet of sweets they knew they wouldn't get.

He passed several people he knew, all of which smiled and nodded politely. The time for apologizes and condolences was long gone, by now it had been over a year, everyone just assumed time healed. But time never really heals, it just numbs. Time just gives you more things to worry about, more things to think about, you don't focus on it as much, he felt he should be thankful, he found himself not thinking about her as much, he had stopped texting her before realizing she would never text back. He still called her phone, but it wasn't as frequent, he hadn't seen her since the pool.

And that was exactly the reason Richard Hardbeck, a boy who should be out with his friends, or spending quality time with family, was trudging down the muddy grass of Bristols finest graveyard, on an uncharacteristically cold summer's evening.

The young boy held flowers in his shaking right hand, a soon-to-be lit joint in his left. He could feel the lighter in his pocket, tempting him, but he had to see Grace first. She was after all, far more important.

_Grace Violet Blood._ Every time the boy read the name on that godforsaken stone he felt as if he were reading it straight from a novel, a beautifully written novel, with a tragic end. That's how she would have put it, if it were up to the bright eyed girl, she would have had a daisy chain after daisy chain decorating the headstone, but it wasn't up to her. Nothing had or ever would be up to her, she was gone, forever destined to lay in a cold coffin, if anything were up to Grace, she wouldn't have had her name on that headstone, or any other one, she wouldn't be lying six feet under, she would be out with her friends celebrating the fact that in a weeks time she would be attending university, but she couldn't celebrate anything, she had nothing to celebrate.

Rich lay down beside the grave, pushing the withering flowers out of his way. Normally he would tell her about his day, or something stupid that Alo did, how the seemingly clueless ginger haired boy was slowly learning to become a proper dad, and how he himself would constantly remind his best mate to turn out the exact opposite of David Blood, never forgetting to add _'Though he raised a pretty decent daughter, eh Gracey?'_

But today would probably be the last day he saw her grave, it wasn't anything special, just a slab of marble with her name carved into it, he wasn't going to miss the sight of it, what he would miss, was the comfort laying down beside it brought him.

It was the only thing that seemed real and proper about his beautiful Grace's death. It was normal, when you died, you were buried. It wasn't different and it was certainly something she would have wanted, that he knew for sure. Rich was so tired of people telling him what she would have wanted, he had always thought that was a load of bullshit. Did she sit them down before the crash,_ knowing_ what was about to happen and tell whomever it was exactly what she would and wouldn't want? _No_. So why did people keep telling him what _his_ girlfriend would have wanted? It made absolutely no sense to him.

"Grace," He began, taking a sharp breath, he laid the flowers down on the opposite side of the grave and rolled the yet-to-be lit spliff around in his hand. "I don't know what to do, Grace." He said her name a lot, especially here, there was something so soothing about it, at first he found it strange, as if he were talking to no one, he thought he was going mad.

"How am I supposed to feel?" The words tumbled out of his mouth, he didn't want to say them, he just came to say goodbye. Goodbye for a couple of months, that he would be thinking about her, wasn't that what you were supposed to say? Rich wasn't sure, he never had to do this before. "Everybody is OK, Grace. And I feel like.."

Rich bit his tongue, loathing himself for what he was about to say, "I feel like I should move on, isn't that what you're supposed to do? Isn't that what I should do? But I cant, not now. And, I want to, because I hate this feeling, Grace. I really fucking hate this feeling."

It was the strangest feeling, a feeling of both emptiness and sadness, there were days when he thought _this_ would be the day, when he was as optimistic as he could be - which still wasn't incredibly optimistic, but it _was_ a start, and then there were days where he just didn't want to get out of bed, where the simplest task felt like a great burden. He found himself blaming her for leaving him like this, but that only made him feel worse. It wasn't her fault, she never planned any of this, she had planned a lot, much too far ahead, but the thought of dying so young never even crossed her mind.

The sky was turning a velvety blue, Rich closed his eyes, listening to the silence of the graveyard, a peaceful silence, a heart-aching silence for some, but a silence none the less.

If he didn't know better, he could have sworn he felt something touch his hand, something sliding under it and gripping it with all the might it could muster, as if it never wanted to let go, and yet it was also the same kind of squeeze a father gave their child before sending them off into the real world, the kind of one that meant they didn't want to see you go, but they knew you had to. Yes, he thought he felt something grip his hand like that, but Rich knew better.

"Don't forget me, Gracey." He whispered, his eyes were open now, staring straight into the velvet sky, you could say it was a beautiful evening, but Rich wouldn't. He could see his breath, the evening was getting steadily cooler, he would have to be getting home soon or Anita would send out a search party.

"If I do ever move on," The thought was strange, foreign, he hadn't really thought about it himself, he didn't really want to. After his exams finished, he spent most his time with Alo and Mini, or in his room listening to music, sometimes he would even put on the shit Grace managed to sneak onto his iPod, he would never admit it, but he knew the words to the songs, sometimes he would even hum along.

"Well you know I wont properly move on, is _moving on_ the right words? You've always been good with words, _smartarse_." Rich smiled, remembering her arm shooting up in class, her dainty hand waving, begging the teacher to pick her. "But..yeah, I mean I wont forget about you, Grace. You're the first, yeah? I mean, you'll always be.._there_. I cant forget, how the fuck could I forget? You're unforgettable, and it's annoying, but you know, I'm glad."

Rich took a deep breath, he felt that familiar feeling in his stomach, "I'm glad we.._happened_, you've helped me, Grace. I was a twat, wasn't I? You just came in and you made me care, and I'll always remember that, fuck knows where I'd be now if it weren't for you." Rich scoffed, he was beginning to sound like he was from one of those Nicholas Sparks novels, or whatever the blokes name was. "Probably in some pub chatting up a fat bird, Alo being my wingman, doubt I'd get very far, what do you reckon?"

He could think of about a million other things to say, or do, but he felt he needed to go, if he didn't, he might never leave. Like he'd said, she would always be there, whether he liked it or not. Rich lazily threw the joint on the grass surrounding the headstone, "If you see my-" he rolled his eyes at the words, at what he was about to say, "granny, tell her I've cut my hair, yeah?" He managed to get it out through gritted teeth. He knew she wouldn't see his grandmother, she wouldn't see anyone, but if there was one thing Grace liked, it was a light hearted joke to soften the mood.

And with one last look at the headstone, the flowers, the pictures of Grace and her family surrounding grave, he bid goodbye to her silently in his mind, something he thought he had done a while back, but this time felt like the final time, this time felt as if he had finally come to terms with it, whatever coming to terms with it meant and with that Rich left the field of stone.


End file.
